


The Gift of Regular Meals

by BooksAndDragons



Series: ShuAke Confidant Week [1]
Category: Persona 5, Persona Series
Genre: M/M, ShuAke Confiant Week, akechi doesnt eat and akira's a soft soul, akira can't take care of himself but u bet he takes care of those he cares about, and feed them while you're at it, must protect, seriously someone help these boys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-29
Updated: 2018-10-29
Packaged: 2019-08-09 19:03:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16455575
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BooksAndDragons/pseuds/BooksAndDragons
Summary: Akechi's dietary habits are something Akira couldn't help but pick up on, especially as of recent, and he's always going to help out a friend if he can, right?Also read: Akechi learns what it's like tonotgo to bed hungry, or miss a meal due to a busy schedule. All because of a young barista with an affinity for making curry and keeping an eye on those he cares about.





	The Gift of Regular Meals

**Author's Note:**

> Soooo uni is exhausting, it has to be said, i have a few days written but if i dont finish them all right away then you know why~
> 
> this does have a part 2, that was originally part of this fic, but since i added the scenes last night/today, it's still incomplete so instead they go into a chapter 2! for now though, i'll mark this as complete

Dietary habits were not something Akechi prided himself on. 3 meals a day, 7 days a week, balanced with good nutrients and with intervals for snacks- his schedule simply didn’t allow for it. Granted, there would be breaks at TV Studios, lunch breaks at school- but food at production studios were never substantial or of great quality, and it was difficult to remember something such as a bento when his time was better occupied with other things. Like paperwork.

But he always made time for coffee.

More specifically, Leblanc’s coffee.

It was hardly a stretch for him to admit that there was something particularly intriguing about the quiet cafe, small and homely- he had become something of a regular, these past few months.

Then again, Akechi supposed the only kinds of customers Leblanc had tended to be regulars. A small amount, but clearly enough to maintain the cafe (although Akechi had his suspicions that Sojiro Sakura was sustaining Leblanc on more than just his current business revenue, considering the man’s previous job, but he continued leaving generous tips anyway).

In hindsight, quiet and all-but-empty was the only way Akechi would have Leblanc, were it some popular cafe in mainstreet Shibuya, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to cope with the constant rowdiness of chatty customers and self-absorbed businessmen. He dealt with those kinds of people far too often.

Leblanc was different. Even now, it was so perfectly peaceful.

The seats were empty tonight, aside from his own. The lingering scent of coffee and curry fulled the air (Akechi’s stomach rumbled at the reminder) and the gentle patter of rain perfectly accompanied the warmth within Leblanc’s walls. As if the night couldn’t get better, a beaten game of chess, White Queen still stood superior, sat on the bench beside him. Akira Kurusu shot him a smile, holding up a jug of coffee.

“Want a top-up? Last chance before it gets poured out.” He teased, the murky liquid sloshing in it’s container.

Akechi resisted the urge to give in. “No thanks, I should be leaving soon- you already stay open late for me.”

Technically, the cafe was closed- at least, according to the sign on the door- but Akira never minded running the cafe for a bit longer, and if he were honest, Akechi was never in a hurry to leave the establishment.

At Akechi’s words, Akira only shrugged, “You know I don’t mind staying open, but if you’re sure….”

Turning on his heels, Akira poured the rest of the coffee down the skin. Akechi couldn’t help but feel like it was such a waste, the coffee in Leblanc truly was his favourite, so expertly crafted (even by Akira himself who, while no perfect barista, someone always made Akechi’s cup just right).

The gushing sound of a tap ran over the soft pattering of rain, interrupting Akechi from his thoughts. As he watched Akira cleaning the dishes, he took a sip of his coffee.

“You’re leaving earlier than usual, detective work?” It was an innocent enough enquiry, and something fluttered in Akechi’s chest at the realisation that Akira noticed his habits.

“You’re correct, as usual.” He smiled lightly, taking another sip of coffee. He wished he’d asked for a top up, the mug was growing more and more empty. “I suppose I can’t complain, I took the Phantom Thief case, it’s my responsibility.”

Although Akira was facing the other way, Akechi could spot the frown tugging at the corner of his lips.

“But, you’re also a student. They can’t expect you to overwork yourself like this.”

Akechi resisted the urge to retort by calling hypocrite.

Instead, he sighed. “I manage myself okay, I’m rather good at balancing myself, you know.” Another sip. There was only dregs now, murky in the bottom of his cup. Akechi already mourned the loss of his coffee.

“Not good enough at it to find enough time to eat more than an apple for lunch, though.” Akira shot him an unimpressed look, before pulling the sink plug and reaching for a towel to dry his hands.

Akechi’s dietary habits were something Akira seemed to have picked up on, as of recent. Adding extra curry to his plate ‘by accident’, inquiring about if he’d eaten that day- it was sweet, even if the concern was rather unfamiliar. Akechi could never find it in himself to ask Akira why, not for the risk of him stopping.

“As I said, I manage myself just fine.” Akechi sniffed, only to be matched by a dramatic roll of Akira’s eyes.

“Of course you do, how could I  _ever_ suggest otherwise.” Shooting him a teasing smirk, Akira then began to wipe down the workbench, a comfortable silence washing over them both as he worked.

Once again, Akechi found his eyes glued to Akira, watching as he flitted across the countertop. Vaguely, at the back of his mind, something warned him that someday Akira would notice the intense gaze that always found itself resting on him, but as usual Akechi ignored the warning.

Sweeping some residual coffee beans into the bin, Akira took a moment to rinse the cloth in the sink, before returning to his spot just across from Akechi. The fluffy mess atop his head bounced slightly with the scrubbing movement, and Akechi had to suppress the urge to reach across the countertop and brush aside the strands of hair that had been ruffled forward, falling just between Akira’s eyeline.

His resistance was worth it when a small frown settled on Akira’s lips, before he puckered them and attempted to blow the strands away. His only reward was the hair moving over the left eye, obscuring half his vision- resulting in a frustrated pout.

Unable to resist, Akechi chuckled, before reaching over, leaning across the counter and tucking the loose strays away himself. Under his touch, a satisfying shudder racked through Akira’s body, and Akechi made the mistake of looking down- clashing his gaze with Akira’s. Deep maroon, against warm charcoal.

For a moment, neither of them moved. They didn’t so much as breathe, gazes fixed intently on one another. Before he could help it, Akechi was leaning forward, gaze never straying from Akira’s own.

Akechi could see those smaller details he’d never noticed before, the long lashes hidden behind thick glasses lenses, the flecks of blue in grey irises. The momentary flutter that accompanied Akira’s blink. Hot breath fanned his face, if he weren’t so transfixed perhaps he’d notice how Akira leaned in too, head tilted just perfectly in alignment, as the space between them fell to mere centimeters, Akechi felt his eyes begin to close, crossing that final distance….

A sharp ringing of the phone brought him sharply back.

Eyes snapping open, both of the boys hastily leaned away- too focused on hiding their own fluster to pay attention to the other. Akira tilted his head down, busying himself with polishing the countertop again, as Akechi reached for the phone in his pocket, buzzing incessantly.

As quick as it came, the blush on his face receded as Akechi read the contact name- hoping his displeasure wasn’t too apparent, he let the phone fall to silence and sighed, putting it back in his pocket. He raised the cup to his lips, swallowing the remaining bitter dregs, before he stood- one hand already on his briefcase.

“Ah, I’m sorry...I should probably be going. Work.” Akira’s head snapped up as Akechi made for the door, frown set on his face.

“Wait! Akechi! Uh…”

Turning on his heels, Akechi raised one eyebrow as Akira rummaged in the fridge, pulling out a single container. The cleaning tools were left forgotten as Akira rushed around the countertop to where Akechi stood, waiting.

He held out the container. Confused, Akechi tilted his head slightly as he accepted it.

“It’s some of the curry. We had some leftover...so, I figured...well, why not save you a portion? It’s only 3 minutes in a microwave, and now you don’t have to skip dinner when you’re busy, you know?” His hands fiddled as he waited for a response.

Akira’s gaze was so open, so honest...a smile replaced the frown set on Akechi’s face as he stared down at the tub in his hands. Undoubtedly, there was significantly more than one portion, and something told him Akira knew it.

“I- thank you.” His phone was vibrating again, heavy in his pocket, “Really, Akira. I’ll make it up to you.” The ringtone pierced like daggers in his ears.

Dark, messy hair shone under the glow of Leblanc as Akira shook his head, “Don’t. Thank me by eating it, okay?”

His voice pierced through the phone’s acidic tone- soft. Dripping with genuinity and care.

And then, a small smile. Teasing, “Now go, someone’s clearly desperate to get a hold of you.”

Tightening his grip on the container, Akechi forced himself to smile- light, happy.

“Of course, take care, Akira.”

No sooner had the other boy’s warm smile, and Leblanc’s homely atmosphere, left him that a cold voice was in his ear, dripping with poison. Uncaring for the lives it ordered the end of.

Suddenly, the curry felt heavy in his hand.

* * *

Next time Akechi visited Leblanc, the first thing that struck him was the lack of the messy-haired barista behind the counter; he tried to hide his disappointment.

Evidently, he didn’t do a good job, when Boss sighed and explained how Akira was out meeting someone tonight, and probably wouldn’t be back until past closing. Akechi couldn’t help the small frown on his face as he sat in one of the far booths, Akira seemed to be getting busier and busier recently.

Still, it’s not like he could do anything about that- at least, not when there was no Akira to talk sense into, perhaps he’d save it for another night. Something told him that few people were astute enough to notice how the bags under Akira’s eyes were only getting heavier- besides, Akira was always more than willing to talk about  _Akechi’s_ overworking habits. The table-turn would be quite the refreshing change (and a long time coming, if Akechi were perfectly honest).

Drawing himself from his thoughts, he pulled out some paperwork, as Boss started to work on his coffee. There was never a need for ordering now, a perk that accompanied being a regular- all the usual orders were memorised.

Churning coffee beans filled the silence in the air, accompanied by the scratching of pen on paper. With the increase in Metaverse targets, time for detective work was becoming increasingly sparse- Akechi even found himself reading confidential reports in his school lunch breaks now.

So immersed in his work, the soft clink of a cup and saucer being put down hardly broke him from his focus- but Boss let him be, he always did. Initially, he’d always bring the teen detective out of his work, but in the months that had passed, the cafe-owner had come to realise that Akechi was more perceptive than people gave him credit for (and people gave him a lot of credit).

Only to prove his point, 10 minutes later a gloved hand reached forward, clasping around the handle of the cup. Eyes never straying from his papers, Akechi took one slow sip of the coffee. A small sigh escaped his lips, some tension dropping from stiff shoulders.

Sojiro hid the satisfied twitch of his lips as he busied himself with a crossword.

The next hour passed by swiftly, no interrupting jingle of the door, no irritating phone calls or any other distracting activity- finally, Akechi felt like he’d made some progress on his files, as he finally sat upright, tilting his neck to each side, revelling in the laxening of his muscles.

The hands on his watch warned him for his final 5 minutes before Leblanc would close. Silently, papers were slotted into varying files and placed in his briefcase, orderly, ready for him to pick them back up at another time. Perhaps tonight, or maybe in the morning.

Clasping the briefcase shut, he gripped the handle in one hand and rose from the booth- offering Boss a warm smile of gratitude.

“Thank you for the coffee, Sakura-san. It was perfectly soothing, as usual.”

The man’s head shot upright, as if in sudden realisation, he jumped to his feet.

“You’re leaving?”

Akechi blinked, regarding the man with vague confusion- his watch  _did_ say five to ten, “Um, yes- it’s almost closing, afterall.”

“Of course just- just hang on a minute, okay?”

Akechi’s nod of understanding went unnoticed by Sojiro, who immediately turned for the fridge- rummaging for only a few seconds before reaching for something inside, closing the door behind him.

As Boss walked towards Akechi, he found the contained to be awful familiar.

“Akira told me to give this to you, he’d be pouty for days if I forgot about it.” Shrugging, he handed the tub over to Akechi, who took it in one hand, staring down at the ‘For Akechi’ written on a post-it, in neat handwriting, “He’s really taking my curry lessons seriously, but if it’s no good let me know- he’s still learning.”

Akechi frowned, “What?...You mean, these aren’t leftovers?”

One greying eyebrow quirked, “We rarely have leftovers that size- no, Akira’s been practicing his cooking skills. He’s made quite the progress, if I say so myself.”

Acting as if he hadn’t just dropped that huge bombshell on Akechi, Sojiro smirked slightly to himself and walked back around the counter- assumingly to his crossword.

Akechi said nothing more, as he pushed the handle of Leblanc’s door- the chime following him out. His eyes didn’t stray from the container once.

How long had Akira spent, slaving over ingredients and pots? Maintaining the perfect simmer, making the temperature just to Akechi’s liking? Was he nervous? Is that why he lied, when he gave Akechi the first tub the other night? Questions swam in his mind, but he couldn’t analyse any of them. He couldn’t see clearly, not past the one fact that kept flashing in his mind.

_Akira had cooked the curry for him._

For  _him_.

He’d spent hours cooking, and cleaning, and practicing, all for Goro Akechi. And nobody else.

Akechi couldn't contain the brilliant smile that lit up across his face.


End file.
